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Re: Chapters 5 and 6 of Jucy and the Barbarian

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  • Yvette
    I enjoyed these chapters greatly Herod! Well done. I especially like chapter 6 ... puttin ... anybody ... will ... is, ... chief. ... way ... probably ... but
    Message 1 of 4 , Jan 1, 2006
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      I enjoyed these chapters greatly Herod! Well done. I especially
      like chapter 6


      --- In fantasyfictiondungeon@yahoogroups.com, "Herod Antipas"
      <antippas@h...> wrote:
      >
      > Nobody responded to this post before, so I thought I'd persist and
      > run it up the flagpole again. If I'm doing the wrong thing,
      puttin
      > gup chapter here, let me know and I'll stop, but I received some
      > nice, and helpful feedback on previous chapters and people seemed
      > interested. I think it's just that when the conversation gets
      > going, posts fall quickly behind. I hope you enjoy it. If
      anybody
      > is lost and didn't see the previous chapters, let me know and I
      will
      > send them to you. I'd love to try to publish this, the question
      is,
      > where?
      >
      > Herod Antippas
      >
      >
      > Chapter 5
      >
      > By Herod Antipas 2005
      >
      > "Stand and deliver!"
      >
      > It was the eighth day of the journey when disaster struck.
      > The barbarian and the princess has dismounted to stretch their legs
      > and were letting the horses graze in a meadow a short distance
      > behind them. Gwig's sharp ears made out the sound of hoof beats
      > behind them. When he turned to look he also heard men on horseback
      > coming from around a bend in the road in front of them. The party
      > of brigands, almost all mounted, numbered about twelve or thirteen.
      > Their apparent leader was a thin scraggly-looking fellow with buck
      > teeth, and it was he who had made this demand. A bandit on foot
      > held the reins of his own horse, and also those of Buttercup and
      > Gwig's smaller roan. Gwig said nothing, and Jucunda, for once, held
      > her tongue.
      >
      > "You heard me, musclehead! Deliver your goods, for you
      > stand at the mercy of Barzac, reaver of treasures and looser of
      > souls! These are my men, Barzac's raiders, and I am Barzac
      > himself." Gwig looked from one man to the next as if mentally
      > trying their mettle, and with a lack of excitement which the
      > brigands found unnerving.
      >
      > "I am Gwig." He said at last, standing his ground. In the
      > silence which followed Jucunda coughed several times into her hand,
      > and finally shot him a look of annoyance, offended that he had
      > failed to introduce her as well. Gwig turned to her in
      > disbelief. "Hold your tongue and let me handle this," He said in a
      > stage whisper, through gritted teeth.
      >
      > "O ho Barbarian! Can't control thy woman?" Barzac
      > taunted. "But gentlemen, we forget our manners," he said to the
      > company at large, "Yon lardbiscuit wishes to speak." Jucunda
      > elbowed Gwig aside and took a few steps closer to the brigand
      chief.
      >
      > "Thank you," she began, "it seems that…" The insult had hit
      > home. "Lardbiscuit?! Thou bull's pizzle! Only come closer and
      > I'll slap off thy beard! You who dare to talk to me this way, I'll
      > have you know I am eep!" Gwig, in a desperate bid to recapture the
      > floor and prevent the princess from revealing her identity had
      > reached over and given her a vigorous pinch with his thumb and
      > forefinger, provoking gales of raucous laughter from the raiders.
      >
      > "Well done Master Barbarian!" roared Barzac "But I see your
      > plumpkin is a spirited lass. I'll tell you what. Let us take her
      > off into the meadow and sample her charms and you may keep your
      > horses and baggage. Why she look to be enough girl to satisfy us
      > six at a time!" Jucunda blanched with real fear at this, while Gwig
      > stepped firmly between her and Barzac. With his back to the woods
      > he was still surrounded by robbers on horseback on the other three
      > sides.
      >
      > "You already have our horses and baggage. Count yourself
      > lucky and be gone." He stood stock still.
      >
      > "Stand aside, barbarian, or my men and I may decide to send
      > you early to Hell."
      >
      > "Mayhap you could accomplish that," Gwig replied, looking
      > each man in the eye, "but answer me this: Which five of you will be
      > accompanying me on the trip?" With one single motion and an icy
      > noise, his sword slid out of the scabbard on his back. He held the
      > two-handed blade with one hand for a moment, sinews standing out
      > like cords on his arm and then adopted a two-handed fihting stance,
      > one foot forward, arms cocked back to swing. The blade was so long
      > that it eliminated the horsemen's greater reach and it looked heavy
      > enough to cleave through a horse's forelimb, meat and bone.
      > Barzac's men looked uncertainly at their leader.
      >
      > "Huh." Barzac said at last, my physician has been telling me
      > that I need to cut down on pork in any case. Come men." And with
      > that, he turned his horse around and started walking it back the
      way
      > he had came. The man on foot led the travelers' horses away and
      > some of them caused their horses to walk backwards so that they
      > could keep an eye on Gwig and his sword, which remained at the
      > ready, his arm only beginning to tremble from the heft of it when
      > they were almost out of sight. At last he let it drop, wiped his
      > brow with a rag and said
      >
      > "Aye, looser of souls indeed, but twere lucky there was not
      > a bow among them, or I'd have been feathered for sure." It was all
      > too much for Jucunda to bear and she began to pummel him with
      > surprising strength about his chest and shoulders.
      >
      > "Lucky?!" the girl screamed, and let loose a stream of
      > invective containing a number of words that most princesses
      probably
      > did not know. "They have taken Buttercup! And our expense money!
      > And all of my garments!" She paused with the realization of further
      > losses "And my beautiful wedding dress, for which it was so hard to
      > find a seamstress (though it truth it did chafe a bit)! And my
      > dowry!" She howled as she slapped him.
      >
      > "Nay, princess, your dowry is here in my survival pack," he
      > said brightly, gesturing to his back, along with a small tent, some
      > dried venison, and the first third of my pay."
      >
      > "Your pay?!" she exploded, "I call it forfeit, for you have
      > done not a thing to earn it! Letting them call me "ladbiscuit"
      > and "plumpkin" and..and.." the outrage was almost too great to put
      > into words, "you pinched me! Tweaked like some village slattern!"
      > She aimed an especially viscous kick at his right shin, but her
      > slippered foot bounced off his hard leather riding boot.
      >
      > "Jucunda" he said in a commanding tone, taking hold of her
      > arms. It was the first time he had used her given name. "Primus: I
      > would hardly call offering to die to save thine honor a nothing,
      but
      > as far as my pay being forfeit, `tis true, for without our expense
      > money we must spend it to survive. Secundus: had I been alone,
      > mayhaps I would have fought thirteen brigands to the death for the
      > sheer sport of it, but I had your welfare to think of. Had I gone
      > down swinging, `twould have left one chubby princess against seven
      > or eight angry highwaymen. Tertius: that pinch were a stroke of
      > desperation to prevent you spending your wedding day being held for
      > ransom in a bandit camp eight days ride from home. We crossed the
      > border of your father's kingdom yesterday in case it scaped your
      > notice.!" She gingerly rubbed the area in question.
      >
      > "I'll grant you that last point, but I shall be black and
      > blue for a week. What are we to do now?" Gwig smiled at her
      > recovery of her composure.
      >
      > "We shall survive and I shall see you wed. But we shall be
      > on a tightened budget and for now we must perforce walk." Jucunda
      > smoothed the font of his tunic, rumpled from her blows, and stepped
      > away.
      >
      > "Very well then. And since we are about to become even more
      > intimate traveling companions than previously, you may as well call
      > me by the pet name by which I am known to my family and friends."
      >
      > "And what is that?"
      >
      > "Jucy." He gave her a toothy grin
      >
      > "Well then, Jucy, let us be off for Ghaspar."
      >
      > "A moment, Gwig." She said, sitting down on a large boulder
      > and smoothing out her dress. "I shall be much better able to walk
      > after I have had a good cry." And with that, she put her face in
      her
      > hands and sobbed like a child.
      >
      >
      > Chapter 6
      >
      > By Herod Antipas 2005
      >
      > The barbarian and the princess had been walking for several
      > hours and the sun was directly overhead. For all that had happened,
      > Gwig mused, she was turning out to be more of a boon traveling
      > companion than he had expected. It was a shame he was going to have
      > to spend part of his pay, but perhaps the sultan would make good
      the
      > loss when he heard the story. The thought of this awakened an
      > unwelcome pang at the thought of having to hand her over at the end
      > of the trip. He smiled to himself as he thought about the way she
      > had face down the bandit chief. She certainly hadn't folded in on
      > herself that time. She had also much impressed him with how well
      > she dealt with adversity, after the initial tempest of course. Here
      > she was, sans horse, sans money, and sans wedding dress walking
      > steadily down the road with him, or maube not. The princess had
      > recently slowed and was beginning to sniffle.
      >
      > "What ho Jucy?" he asked "not mourning your trousseau again?"
      >
      > "No, it's not that," she said, wiping away a tear, "it's
      > just that this is the longest I have walked in years. I was trying
      > to be brave and not complain, but my thighs are well-nigh raw from
      > rubbing together." Her voice broke.
      >
      > "Ah, it is my fault." He replied. "I should have thought."
      > He was beginning to open his pack. "'Tis a common problem, not only
      > with plump young ladies, but with some of the more heavy-thewed
      > members of my cohort when I fought for the Grand Duchy of Leomond,
      > where the fighters wear leathern kilts into battle. I will
      > prescribe the Leomondian cure for you." He handed her a small
      > bottle and two rolls of fabric, intended for use as bandages. "Do
      > but wrap one bandage around the thickest part of each member and
      > they will save you from further unnecessary friction. Tonight,
      > anoint yourself with this liniment and you shall feel much better
      by
      > morrow." She took the articles gratefully.
      >
      > "Turn your back, close your eyes, and cover your head with
      > your cloak. I am to sore to venture even a few feet into the
      > woods." While Gwig held this ridiculous position, she hiked up her
      > dress and carefully wrapped each inflamed thigh with the soft
      > fabric, securing it in place with two pins from her hair, which
      > caused her scarlet tresses to fall down over her shoulders. "That
      > does it. Now let us check the results." She took a few
      > experimental steps, amused at the "whip-whip" noise she now made as
      > she walked. "'Tis much improved already. I shall soon be ready to
      > serve as a pikeman in the Grand Duchy of Leomond, although I hope
      it
      > should not require me to sneak up on anybody."
      >
      > They walked a bit farther, Jucunda "whip-whipping" along
      > when she asked a question in a small voice.
      >
      > "Gwig, tell me truly. Do you think me a lardbiscuit, as the
      > brigand chieftain said?"
      >
      > "I think you a clever, spirited, and winsome girl. The fact
      > that there is more of you than most women, be just an added bonus."
      > He said this almost without thinking, then kept his eyes straight
      > ahead so that neither saw the other one blush.
      >
      > "You know Gwig I was more angered when he called
      > me "Plumpkin", for my father used to call me that as a term of love
      > until my mother made him stop. We were not supposed to discuss my
      > weight in her presence. My sisters would follow this rule and then
      > serve me up double insults when we got back to the dormitory."
      >
      > "That sounds hard."
      >
      > "Nay not that hard. It is only as sisters will do.
      > Dorcas's pimples, and Menolly's gap teeth were not spared. But we
      > were a close family. Even my older sister Romna, who ran off with a
      > troubadour was welcome back at the palace on feast days, albeit she
      > had to sit at the servant's table. My father is a tenderhearted
      > man, though he thinks no one knows it." Feeling homesick at this,
      > she took Gwig's hand for a moment of comfort, then burst out
      > laughing.
      >
      > "What, does our situation now strike you as funny, or does
      > the Leomondian cure tickle?"
      >
      > "I just remembered a funny habit of Buttercup's when she has
      > an unfamiliar rider. The first time that Barzac tries to ride her,
      > she will wait about a quarter of an hour and then scrape him off
      > under the first roof or low-lying tree limb she comes across. A new
      > stablehand tried to steal her once and he was found a mile down the
      > road with a broken ankle."
      >
      > "That's a pity then that we are here and he is there" Gwig
      > grinned, "For I would dearly have liked to see that!"
      >
      > ***
      > At their new, slower pace, the would not be reaching the
      > next inn by nightfall, so Gwig looked around for a likely spot and
      > finally picked an uphill clearing which afforded them a view of the
      > road. This close to the Furiant Mountains, the air was already
      > getting crisp at night. Gwig made a cheery fire and wrapped himself
      > in his traveling cloak while Jucunda took the tent and their one
      > remaining blanket. While Gwig reclined against a tree, prodding the
      > fire with a long stick, Jucy was in the tent, applying the liniment
      > he had given her.
      >
      > "Ugh!" she said, wrinkling her nose, "You neglected to tell
      > me that this stuff smells like the breath of a diseased firedrake!"
      >
      > "Had I told you you would never have put it on. Rub in in
      > well and the aroma will fade."
      >
      > She crawled out of the tent on her hands and knees, her
      > generous belly almost scraping the ground. She considered the
      > effort of standing up to walk the few feet to where Gwig was
      resting
      > and instead crawled the rest of the way like a tot
      > playing "horsie." She rolled over into a sitting position, legs
      > apart, and began fanning her inner thoghs with the hem of her gown,
      > to dissipate the fumes from the liniment. It was the original cream
      > colored dress she had worn on the day of their departure, now
      > filthy. Gwig watched her with a grin. She caught him and blushed,
      > but also smiled.
      >
      > "Not much left of my royal decorum, is there Sir Gwig?"
      >
      > "Nay, it seems to me you show yourself a true princess by
      > not going to pieces at the first sign of trouble. Every royal
      > family is descended from some stalwart fellow bold enough to carve
      > out a kingdom or wrest one away. But I have been thinking. Without
      > our frippery, it may be best that we adopt a new guise for the
      > nonce. I will be a soldier returning from the Northern wars. I am
      > going to Ghaspar to book passage on a Southbound ship."
      >
      > "Then am I to be your…"
      >
      > "Sister."
      >
      > "So I am receiving a demotion." She said teasingly.
      >
      > "Aye and to keep up appearance, there will be no more
      > ordering me about in public."
      >
      > "Then I shall have to order you about twice as much in
      > private to catch up" she chuckled. They sat for a few minutes, just
      > listening to the crackle of the fire. Gwig reached inside his pack
      > and pulled out a stoppered flask.
      >
      > "That survival pack of yours appears bottomless. What is
      > that? Another foul-smelling liniment?"
      >
      > "Much better than that" he said, putting the stopper out
      > with his teeth, "This is Artabarian brandy. "Tis strong, so take
      > only small sips." They passed the bottle back an forth and had
      > drank off half of the sweet golden fiery stuff before Gwig replaced
      > the cork and put the bottle away in his pack. With only a few
      > strips of smoked venison in her stomach, the liquor was going to
      > Jucunda's head, and causing her to lose some of her inhibitions.
      >
      > "Since there be no one here but thee and me," she
      > began, "help me, Brother Gwig, for I need a man's point of view."
      >
      > "I'll do my best, Jucy my little sister."
      >
      > "Hast been with a large number of women? Surely it must be
      > so, what with all your battle, and armies, and travels."
      >
      > "Perhaps not so many as you think, but aye, a few."
      >
      > "Any of my…avoirdupois?"
      >
      > "Close to't" he murmured, thinking of a lady tavern owner in
      > Polidor and a young widow on a caravan he once guarded.
      >
      > "Did it present any particular, er challenges?" she asked,
      > somewhat flustered.
      >
      > "Nay, not if the man be put together like most and the woman
      > be of reasonable agility. But in the even of problems, there is one
      > arrangement said never to fail. "Tis said the Andamar Islanders use
      > it exclusively. The men there prefer a woman with a very broad
      > fundament and the women take great pains to cultivate one. When an
      > islander husband is due to return from a boar hunt, his wife will
      > retire to their marital bed and arrange herself thusly, so that his
      > favorite part shall be the first thing he sees when he comes
      through
      > the door. She then settles in for a long wait." Jucunda let out a
      > giggle and pushed him playfully
      >
      > "That was never a true story!"
      >
      > "Wholly true," he said with mock seriousness, "Some Andamar
      > women have been known to hold the position for three or four days,
      > with female relatives bringing them food."
      >
      > "Well, I certainly hope the Sultan will not oft go boar
      > hunting, for it sounds like it would be hard on the knees."
      >
      > Gwig fell silent again. The brandy was getting to him as
      > well and the conversation had been straying into bawdy territory.
      > He wondered what her parents would think if they could see this,
      > although she clearly knew how all the parts went together. Despite
      > Gwig's misgiving, Jucunda was ready to continue.
      >
      > "Hast any other advice then, as to how I can keep the Sultan
      > happy in the manner of husbands and wives?" He thought for a long
      > time of how to put matters more delicately and finally came up with
      > the following analogy.
      >
      > "Jucy," he began, "what is your favorite thing to eat?"
      >
      > "Roast duck with cherry sauce, but `tis a cruel question to
      > ask, when I've had nothing but a nibble of smoked venison and sit
      > here, wasting away to nothing." For emphasis she playfully lifted
      > her belly with both hands and then let it drop back into her lap.
      >
      > "Suppose then that you were about to be served roast duck
      > with cherry sauce, and could smell it from the kitchen, then see
      the
      > dish brought in, then have it set before you, then watch it be
      > carved. When you finally got to eat it would not the dish be even
      > more savory for the waiting?" She had a faraway look in her eyes.
      >
      > "Yessss" she moaned, then snapped back to the
      > present. "What has all that to do with pleasing my Sultan?"
      >
      > "You see, Jucy," continued Gwig, "In the doings of husbands
      > and wives, the man experiences a certain "reward," which he greatly
      > relishes. He is like a pig with an apple. An his wife let him, he
      > will go straight to his "reward" in a metter of seconds. But if she
      > be skillfull, she will draw out the meal, serving other dishes,
      > making him wait for the roast duck with cherry sauce until he can
      > stand it no longer and then, dinner is served!" Jucunda looked at
      > him as if he had grown a second head.
      >
      > "So sex is like serving roast duck with cherry sauce to a
      > pig with an apple?"
      >
      > "Exactly! He might even have a second helping. Moreover,
      > the woman also experiences a "reward" and if he be a considerate
      > husband he will see his wife is served before eating all of the
      > roast duck with cherry sauce himself. Now does that clear things
      > up?" Jucy burst out laughing, and continued, in full-throated,
      > musical tones until tears streamed down her face and every part of
      > her shook. This went on for a long time while Gwig sat there
      > feeling like a pillock, his ears and face burning. Every time she
      > seemed about to stop she erupted into fresh peals until she spent
      > herself.
      >
      > "Oh…" she gasped "that was magnificent. She took his hand
      > by way of reconciliation. "I'm sorry I led you along, but you must
      > think me a right prat. Gwig, I have twelve older sisters, all of
      > them now married. I have known about "rewards" for simply ages.
      > Certes I am a virgin, but what made you think I have never
      > been "rewarded?"
      >
      > "But then how?, I mean, with whom…" he sputtered
      >
      > "Who said I was with anyone at all?" When it got hot, a
      > groom of ours, with black hair, used to pitch hay with his shirt
      > off, and like clockwork my sister Dorcas used to keep the whole
      > dormitory awake on account of the creakiness of her bed frame. We
      > were all of us acquainted with the "little man in the boat."
      >
      > With that, she rolled back onto her hands and knees and
      > crawled back to the tent, giving him a final view reminiscent of an
      > Andamar islander's homecoming.
      >
      > "I know what you are thinking," she called back to him
      > through the tent flap, "I can SO reach it!"
      >
    • Herod Antipas
      ... Thank you. What did you like particularly about chapter 6? the way that Jucy strung Gwig along, or just the overall naughtiness of it?
      Message 2 of 4 , Jan 2, 2006
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        --- In fantasyfictiondungeon@yahoogroups.com, "Yvette"
        <yvette_n_chad@y...> wrote:
        >
        > I enjoyed these chapters greatly Herod! Well done. I especially
        > like chapter 6
        >

        Thank you. What did you like particularly about chapter 6? the way
        that Jucy strung Gwig along, or just the overall naughtiness of it?
      • Yvette
        The development of their relationship
        Message 3 of 4 , Jan 2, 2006
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          The development of their relationship

          --- In fantasyfictiondungeon@yahoogroups.com, "Herod Antipas"
          <antippas@h...> wrote:
          >
          > --- In fantasyfictiondungeon@yahoogroups.com, "Yvette"
          > <yvette_n_chad@y...> wrote:
          > >
          > > I enjoyed these chapters greatly Herod! Well done. I especially
          > > like chapter 6
          > >
          >
          > Thank you. What did you like particularly about chapter 6? the way
          > that Jucy strung Gwig along, or just the overall naughtiness of it?
          >
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